Number Three

Raymond Leaf-Trasher's morning was not off to a good start. Sure, it was eventful, but this was not how he expected to spend his Saturday. His bed would have been preferred.

The apartment building was not made for one as tall as Raymond, and he found having to bend over as he made his way through to be tiresome. It was an older building, from the time before trolls were allowed in the city.

Cops mulled outside the apartment, one man retching into one of the potted plants in the hall. Raymond barely glanced at them, placing a hand on the top of the door frame as he ducked into the apartment. Long before he had reached the doorway, the metallic scent of blood had assaulted his senses.

But now, it surrounded him, pressing into him from all sides. His baser instinct dictated that this scent would drive him to find the source to consume it, much like a shark in water. Raymond shook it off with a quick shake of his head.

"What do we have, Ward?" He met the orc in the kitchen, which wasn't hard. The apartment was long, narrow, the first area being the kitchen to the right, and the living room beyond that, also to the right.

"It's pretty gruesome, Ray, I ain't gonna lie." Howard had a few coffees on the counter, all of them untouched. Raymond set his own down next to them.

"Any suspects?" Howard led him down the hallway, past the living room. Raymond cast a side glance to it. Nicely decorated, white painted walls with blue trim, to match the couch and coffee table. A cat-tree in the corner, some potted plants. The victim clearly did their best to brighten up the place.

"None. Open window on the fire escape. Door was locked upon arrival." Howard stopped outside the door at the end of the hall. The smell of blood was strongest here, mixed with fear, sweat…Hell, Raymond could even smell the salt from tears that were dry by now.

He grunted to Howard, and pushed the door inward as he stepped into the room. No one else was in here, though someone had lain a tarp over the body. Blood splattered out from it, coating the walls, the bed with its plush pink blanket, the dresser covered in cosmetics, all tipped over. Some were scattered on the ground, a perfume cracked to add its sweet scent to the stench of death.

"She struggled." He noted dryly, crouching down next to the body. Lifting the corner a bit, he realized her eyes were still open. Devoid of any life, they were still a rather pretty shade of blue. Raymond pulled on thick, black gloves and reached out to close them with two fingers. "This is the third victim?"

"Yah." Howard hung back. He was never good with particularly violent murders. Good detective, but better off the scene.

Raymond tossed the tarp aside, and heard his partner gag. He paid it no mind.

She had been stripped of her clothes. Cuts and lacerations covered her petite body, her wrists still bound behind her back. What stood out to him was the bruising on her neck, which he traced with her fingers. Rope. Her mouth was gagged, and through the blood on her face were tear streaks. There was too much blood to guess her hair color.

He turned his gaze to her back, which was covered in a thick layer of drying blood that was already cracking. On her back were two long, jagged ridges, stained red from the blood. He did not need forensics to tell him they were the remains of her wings.

The jagged edges implied they had been hacked away, and judging from the knicks on her arms and sides, paired with the bruising on her legs, she was alive when it happened. But he would know more when they did the autopsy.

"Fucking gruesome." Howard stated the obvious, and Raymond nodded his head. His nose twitched, and he inhaled a deep whiff of the room.

His nose was assaulted, but he kept on sniffing through the stench of death. Looking for something, anything, that'd give him a clue.

"Salt…" He murmured, catching the whiff of something different from the rest of the room. "Male…Something else I can't place my finger on…"

Howard was silent while Raymond worked. Everyone knew not to interrupt him, and his keen sense of smell is what earned him the nickname The Bloodhound. To top it off, he was thorough, dedicated, and once he knew a scent, it was hard to shake it.

Raymond shook his head, and rose to his feet. It nagged at him, the smell he couldn't put his finger on. As soon as he whiffed it, everything else started to fade. That was bad. He rubbed his nose, and pulled air through it and then back out forcefully.

"Ya good, Ray?" Howard had stepped into the room, and Ray waved him off, feeling a wave of lightheadedness hit him.

"I'm fine…Don't come in." He shook his head, using his sleeve to cover the lower half of his face. Turning, Ray went for the door, pushing past Howard as he did. He needed fresh air, and he needed it now.

Most apartments had their fire escape in the living room, and, thankfully, this one was no exception. He made it to the window, pushing his head outside, hands curling on the frame and took a deep breath. It smelled awful - gas tickled his nose, the wafts of an unwashed body from the alley below, and just the general stench of an overpopulated city.

But it was a relief after what he had picked up in that room. The problem was, he had no idea what it was.

Raymond was still hanging out the window, breathing in the city, when he felt an arm on his hand. He turned, and it was Officer Wiston, the new recruit, offering him a bottle of water.

"Detective Hornwhistle said you needed this." Her eyes were a rich brown, framed with dark brown lashes. A rather pretty thing, and the fact Raymond had seen her even flip Howard warmed his heart.

"Thank you, Officer Wiston." He took the bottle, comically small in his hand, and popped it open with his thumb. Then he tilted his head back, pressing it to his lips, and inhaled it as if it were nothing. When he lowered it down, and looked at her again, she was just watching him with wide eyes. "Anything else?"

"N-no sir! Very impressive, sir!" With a flaming blush, she spun away from him and darted back toward the kitchen of the apartment. Raymond smiled to himself, then sobered up.

He tossed the bottle out the window, hoping it made it into a trashcan, and strolled back to the bedroom. Now that he was done getting air, he had to get to work. Evidence was not going to gather itself.

Several hours later, Raymond and Howard were sitting at a local diner. Raymond slouched in his chair, leaning back into it with a low groan, while Howard eyed the menu.

"Earlier you couldn't stomach being in the room, now you want a burger?" Raymond looked down his face at Howard, refusing to lift his lulling head.

"Hey, a man has to eat. How else am I goin' to keep these hogs going?" Howard raised his arms, tugging at the sleeve of his button up to show off his bulging bicep.

"Careful, Ward. It may all end up in your gut." Raymond let his eyes travel around the crowded diner, taking in the assortment of people. It always intrigued him how so many different species could live in peace here, but it was the times.

"Hah! Then it'd just keep my lady warm." Howard slapped his stomach, letting out a deep chuckle. "What 'bout you, Ray?"

"Pie and coffee." Raymond always got the same thing - a decent slice of pie, and a warm cup of coffee. Howard snorted, but seemed unsurprised with the choice as he looked for the waitress.

As if sensing their readiness, she appeared nearly out of thin air, her pile of hair being the first noticeable thing about her. Raymond glanced down at the halfling, who held a tray on a rather wide hip, and offered him a grin.

"Afternoon, boys. Let me guess what you're getting this time." She didn't bother producing her order pad, just tilted her head and tapped the corner of her mouth with one knobby finger. "For Detective Leaf-Trasher, I bet he's going to want the pie of the day and coffee, no cream. As for you, Detective Hornwhistle…Medium rare burger, no ketchup, extra mustard, no lettuce, bacon, a side of fries, and a milkshake. Am I right?"

They had both sat there, exchanging amused glances as Patty recited their order. They came here at least once a week, and despite always asking, they got the same thing.

"That's right, Patty. And make sure ta give me extra cheese this time." Howard smiled at her, and she gasped softly at him.

"Oh! Switching it up, eh?" She winked at him, patting his arm, "Don't worry, hon. I got you. I'll be back in a jiff."

With that, she flounced away from them, humming to herself. Howard turned back to Ray, his expression somber suddenly.

"I ain't looking forward to this case, Ray." Folding his hands on the table, the orc frowned for a long moment. His thumb rubbed into the back of his hand, the color of red clay, and his sloping mud colored eyes stared down at the table.

"Same." Raymond sighed heavily. Despite his partner's rather fierce appearance, Raymond had found that he was a big softie. But he did an excellent job.

"Ray…What happened at the scene?" Howard raised his eyes to Raymond's, their muddy brown darkness zeroing in. Raymond always found it unnerving to stare too long into his eyes, and rolled his shoulders in a shrug, feigning looking for Patty.

"No idea. I'll find out though, don't worry." Raymond had no idea what it was that took away his scent like that, but he'd be damned if it happened again.